Normalcy in Moderation
by neuroticmango
Summary: "I wish things have been more normal when we had met." "Lila, believe me when I say this: I've never known a normal day in my entire life." Where Spencer and Lila do the dating thing, all the while trying to keep it private because he does serious work, she's always in the limelight, and professionalism is paramount in their respective careers.
1. Prologue

BEFORE

"I wish things have been more normal when we had met," Lila says.

Spencer recalls the events of the past few days. There was the art gallery. The chase from the police station. The pool and his hesitant _I, uh, I fell in_. He remembers wearing clothes that weren't his, and he remembers taking out his gun as Lila's friend turned erotomaniac unsub devolved completely in her home.

"Lila," he says with a laugh, "believe me when I say this: I've never known a normal day in my entire life."

They make more conversation; she delaying the inevitable goodbye that makes itself known three separate times, and he willing to listen and give her his undivided attention.

When they part, it's with a tender understanding and a small frisson of potential.

_Does it make you feel anything?_

Spencer thinks of her as he flies through the stratosphere. The Hollywood starlet with the mischievous smile. His picture might be printed in gossip magazine this time tomorrow, with his hand on her shoulder and her chin resting on that same hand, but he cannot find it himself to care.

_Right now I feel pretty good._


	2. Rekindle

A YEAR LATER

Spencer felt the sting of the fresh coffee, one paper cup gripped cautiously in each hand, as he navigated the busy streets of Los Angeles. His pace was fast to match the crowd around him, yet his steps were careful and precise in order to minimize the spillage bound to occur – the simple laws of fluid dynamics guarantee it, after all. Which is why, he thought later that night as he settled for bed, he never noticed Lila Archer walking towards him.

Having a brilliant memory and high IQ is all well and good, but it doesn't help if Spencer wasn't paying attention. He did not see her eyes, pale green framed by meticulously curled lashes, slide casually onto his form as strangers are wont to do, before sliding smoothly away. He did not see the actress do a double-take upon realizing the identity of the person she was passing by on the street, nor did he see her falter mid-step and bump into the person walking behind her.

He did notice, though, when she called his name.

"Spencer," she shouted, delight clear in her voice. "Spencer Reid… of the FBI?"

The man in question turned around and saw Lila smiling up at him. It was the same smile that he remembered (he was definitely paying attention last year at the art gallery, before the stalker case took over his priorities).

"It's me," Lila rushed to say, seeing how Spencer was still struck dumb by her sudden appearance, "Lila Archer. You helped protect me from…"

Spencer caught the moment Lila changed her train of thought, and he saw the resolve settle on her features. "You helped protect me," she said instead.

His heart was thudding loudly in his chest. "Lila," he spoke a little breathlessly. "Hi. It's a pleasant surprise, seeing you here." He frowned. "Not to imply that there was an insignificant chance of seeing you here, in LA, where you live and work and most likely spend the majority of your free time. I only meant that I didn't expect to see you." His frown deepened. "That is to say, I'm not suggesting that I do not want to be in your company…"

Lila laughed, and Spencer was grateful for the opportunity to stop speaking. He was digging himself a hole, figuratively speaking, and he didn't know how to climb out of it.

"What brings you to the West coast?" asked Lila. She looked meaningfully at the two cups of coffee in Spencer's hands. "Are you here with someone?"

Now, that was a question he could answer easily.

"Yes, I am, actually," he answered with confidence, only for it to waver when Lila's easy cheer visibly decreased. "Oh, it's not what – " He clears his throat. "I'm here with Elle. Um, Agent Greenaway? We were assigned several colleges in the California area to conduct recruitment drives for the FBI, specifically the BAU which, as you know, is our department."

"So it's a work thing."

"Yes, a work thing. Undeniable a work-related visit to… here." Spencer bemoaned his sudden lack of coherence. "Well, not _here_ precisely. I mean the Baxter Lecture Hall at Caltech."

"I'm not keeping you, am I?" she asked, grimacing. "It's just that it's been a while since we last saw each other. It'll be nice to catch up. Not over coffee, of course… unless you want to? Or maybe over lunch, like in a restaurant somewhere?" She bit her lip and looked at him with eager eyes. "What time does your drive finish?"

"Oh, it only takes an average of half an hour for the speeches, but there's the question and answer session afterwards that can range from fifteen minutes to another half hour."

If it weren't for the coffee cups, Spencer would be pushing his shaking hands into his pockets, or at the very least fiddling with the strap to his messenger bag.

"Um," he said, voice shaking as his heart thudded louder and louder with what he was about to say. "If you don't have any immediate plans, Lila, you're more than welcome to sit in. I can even give you a tour of the campus afterwards. Caltech has some beautiful architecture, but I'm sure you already know that."

Lila denied his assumption with a shake of her head, not being very familiar with the college at all. Or architecture, in general. "I'll be happy to go with you, Spencer."

They made their way down the street, towards the sand colored buildings that made up the Caltech campus, and they took turns briefly highlighting events from the past year and sharing them with each other. It wasn't until they crossed the Baxter Lecture Hall entrance that Lila, after listening to Spencer recount the building's history, remarked how familiar he was with the college.

"Or is it an architecture thing?" she asked.

Spencer smiled as he guided the two of them through groups of college students – and some professors, too, from what he can see – into the theater proper. Rows and rows of cushioned seats surrounded the podium, where Elle was working with a technical assistant in setting up the presentation. Spencer quickly assessed the situation and saw that he still had time to spare.

"My familiarity stems mostly from the time I spent here as a student," he said, clarifying Lila's confusion.

"You went to college here?"

"Only until I was eighteen. After the academic year finished, I transferred to MIT where I completed my doctorate in Engineering and began my studies into Psychology and Sociology. I needed a change of atmosphere, and a college in the East coast was a more than adequate solution."

Spencer took a sip of his coffee before he could go on to explain why he felt like moving to the other side of the country the moment he turned eighteen. Every memory concerning his mother and the way he had her institutionalized made him feel tremendous amounts of guilt. Nevertheless, he was not surprised when shock colored Lila's expression.

"That's quite a collection of degrees you've got there," she said softly.

Spencer sent a grin her way. His academic achievements, while a source of awkward pride every time it's mentioned in conversation with other people, were something he didn't want to hide from Lila. There was something about her that made him want to share as much of himself as possible, perhaps even his mentally ill mother.

"I have doctorates in Mathematics and Chemistry as well," he said. "I enjoy intellectual stimulation. There's so many things to learn about the world around us, you see, and so many schools of learning to approach it with! I'm actually working on my Philosophy degree in between work and other obligations, and – oh, I can see Elle verbally abusing that unfortunate tech guy. Her body language tells me she's anxious for her daily dose of caffeine. Do you mind if I…?"

At Lila's assurances, Spencer rushed down to the front of the theater, the sea of people parting to make way as he passed. He handed over the over-described coffee (a triple shot venti skinny caramel macchiato with extra foam) to Elle's upturned palm. Spencer gulped down his own coffee as she took a preliminary sip.

"What took you so long?" she asked, a little snappily. "I had to deal with these morons by myself."

Spencer swirled the liquid inside his now half-empty coffee cup. "Foot traffic," he answered softly, which was a well-meaning avoidance of truth. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Are we ready to start? The theater is reasonable full."

"Depends if you're worked yourself into a panic yet, Dr Reid," Elle countered with a smirk. She knew how much public speaking puts him out of his comfort zone. On the plus side, the caffeine seemed to be working and she didn't feel like throttling the tech guy anymore.

"Oh I think I can handle this one just fine," said Spencer. Having spent the better part of six years with this college, he was more than prepared to address the young adults who were interested in a career in federal law enforcement. Caltech was, in a way, like a home to his teenage self, and he had plenty of memories in this place to ease his discomfort for public speaking.

Familiarity, in this situation, bred comfort instead of contempt.

The audience were very receptive to his and Elle's respective speeches, and the subsequent questions and answers session, after the expected "have you ever killed someone?" question was asked, turned out to be very interactive. They did, however, overrun the time when several overeager individuals used the topic of geographic profiling to segue into an impromptu discussion about Spencer's doctoral dissertations.

"You were right," Elle said to him as they gathered their things. "You handled this one just fine. In fact, I'm so impressed by you that I'm going to do something spontaneous and treat you for lunch."

"But all out meals are expended to the Bureau."

Elle raised on of her eyebrows. "It's the thought that counts, Reid. Come on, what you say?"

If Spencer were Morgan, Elle would have nudged him on the side to cajole him into accepting her offer. But he was not Morgan, and so she settled instead for putting her hands on her hips and gave the younger man a mock stern look.

"We need to celebrate the small victories," she declared, sounding uncannily like JJ to Spencer - not that he would ever voice that thought.

"That sounds like a lovely idea, Elle," Spencer said sincerely, "but I already made lunch plans."

Lila chose this moment to appear, leaving Spencer to quickly wonder if she did it on purpose or maybe some higher being, no matter how improbable it sounded, was looking out for him. She looked a little haggard after sitting for so long, but Spencer could see that she was happy to be here.

A warmth of emotion spread through his chest and another, more physical one, materialized on his cheeks. He could feel it burning.

"Spencer," Lila called with a wave of her hand. "You were amazing back there. Both of you were, actually." She offered a handshake to Elle, who was startled but hid it well under a professional mask. "Agent Greenaway, I don't know if you remember me, but –"

"Lila Archer," interrupted Elle, accepting the handshake. "The stalker case. I didn't realize you and Agent Reid kept in touch."

There was an underlying hint of something, perhaps of disapproval, in Elle's tone. It was subtle, but Spencer was a good study of human behavior. That, and Elle rarely called him _Agent_ Reid. It was always Dr Reid or just Reid, and on casual occasions she and the rest of his team called him Spencer.

"We didn't," he said, eyeing Elle warily. Then he lost his courage and his gaze swept to the crowd around them, to the floor, even to Lila who was still smiling proudly at him. "I mean," he continued, "Lila and I didn't keep in touch after that… that case."

"Spencer's right," confirmed Lila. "It was a coincidence bumping into each other on the street, but it was good that we did. At least…" she bit her lip, and the blush that had receded returned in full force on Spencer's face, "I like to think that it's a good thing."

"I assure you," Spencer said softly. "It's a good thing."

Lila brushed her hair behind her ear, and Spencer noted some pinkness on her cheeks that had nothing to do with her makeup. He made a vague gesture of goodbye to Elle, who by now realized that her presence was superfluous, and began leading Lila outside.

"So about that campus tour…" Elle heard Spencer start saying, before the two left her sight and got swallowed by the throng of people. She sighed and began making her way back to the hotel. She could only hope that the kid knew what he was doing, getting involved with a former case victim like Lila Archer. People they meet on the job always brought trouble with them.

~break~

"Here is where the majority of my Mathematics dissertation came into fruition," announced Spencer as she settled on one of the smoothed cement blocks scattered around the area. Plenty of other people were using them for seats, while even more were placed randomly in groups on the grassy area; some students were even taking shelter under the shade given by the palm trees.

"Ah, the prodigy's batcave," laughed Lila, "… in a manner of speaking, anyway. I still can't believe you graduated high school at age twelve. When I was that age, the only thing on my mind was getting the lyrics to Wannabe right word for word."

Spencer felt his brows furrow together. Despite his vast knowledge of many things, he did not understand that particular reference. It sounded colloquial, perhaps it had something to do with pop culture?

"And you don't know what I'm talking about…"

There was an expression of disbelief playing on Lila's face that Spencer was knew very well – he had seen in plenty of times on people who thought that, for a genius, he wasn't so smart if he didn't know what so-and-so pop culture reference was.

"Wannabe by Spice Girls? You haven't heard of the Spice Girls?"

"I'm afraid I haven't," he shrugged. "My taste in music lies more on the classical side."

Lila suddenly beamed. "Oh, in that case," she said, grabbing his arm, "I'm going to make it my job – no, my mission, Spencer! – to educate you on the wonders that is the Spice Girls. And other artists, too, but let's start with Wannabe, yeah?"

Spencer's jaw dropped at Lila's enthusiasm. No one has even been this excited in teaching him before, not even the college professors who were undoubtedly giddy at the prospect of having a certified genius in their class.

That warm emotion that he felt earlier on, the one that he felt when he saw that Lila was happy to sit through FBI recruitment speeches even though she had no interest in joining, returned to him even stronger than before. He could feel his ears burning at Lila's eagerness, and she was still touching his arm.

"Well," he said, looking at the Hollywood actress with a fond smile, "I do like to learn new things."

The conversation then delved into the subject of pop music, with Lila even going as far as to sing several lines of some songs to make sure Spencer was understanding what she meant. It was unfortunate that she didn't have her Walkman with her, otherwise they could just go to a music store and buy the CDs she was talking about. Nevertheless, Spencer turned out to be an avid listener, asking the right questions and not being afraid to ask for clarification whenever he got confused.

They talked for a long time, and when it became clear that the two of them were getting hungry, Spencer took them to his favorite restaurant in the area – his campus food joint, so to speak. It was over desert when conversation lagged, and Spencer found himself focusing way too much on his sundae than he really should be doing.

"So I was wondering…" Lila began hesitantly, playing with the filling in her cherry pie. Her elbow was propped up against the table, the arm positioned so that her hand was cupping at the back of her neck.

Classic signs of nervousness, Spencer noted. He buried his spoon into the sundae and pushed the entire thing to the side, wanting to show Lila that he was giving his full attention.

"Yes?" he asked, matching her low tone of voice.

She looked up and met his inquiring gaze. "I was wondering why you never called," she said. "I knew you had my number, and there were plenty of other ways of keeping in touch, and when we were saying our goodbyes last year… I was pretty sure that you were going to call."

"Lila…" His breath hitched and his tongue was unexpectedly too large in his mouth. He licked his lips, just for something to do, and under the table, his hands were beginning to shake. He was glad they were out of sight.

"No, I understand that I did come on a bit too strong for you," Lila rushed to say. "So it's fine if I scared you off. Really, it is. But you seemed like the type to wonder how I would be coping with… with everything, and so I'm just wondering why you didn't call, or send a letter, or used email."

Spencer didn't know where to start, so he first addressed the simplest question she asked. "I don't have an email account," he said. "My colleague Garcia likes to call me a Luddite, actually."

Then he took a deep, steadying breath.

"Lila, the reason why I didn't call you was because of how I behaved during that case. I was assigned to you on an official capacity, and that specific case happened to be highly publicized. I didn't know it then, of course, but as a result my team and I were under deep scrutiny. I'm ashamed to say that my behavior at the time was extremely suspect. Some might even say that I was taking advantage of the situation: as a profiler, I knew that you were feeling very vulnerable, and as an agent working on the case, it's understandable that you felt a sudden attachment to me."

Silence met his words, and he wasn't surprised to see that there was a deep frown on Lila's face. She was clearly processing what he said.

Several minutes passed.

"You didn't take advantage of me," she proclaimed. "You saved my life, protected me from my stalker. There's no reason for you to be ashamed, Spencer. I'm thankful for what you did."

"And I appreciate your thanks, Lila, but that doesn't excuse the way I struggled in separating my obvious attraction to you from what should have been professional concern."

The corner of Lila's lips twitched, threatening to form a smile despite the gravity of the conversation.

"You were attracted to me?" she asked, hope evident in her tone, and Spencer could only laugh in disbelief.

"Of course I was attracted to you! A very beautiful woman was giving me attention and she wasn't cowed by my apparent lack of social skills. Frankly, you were a dream come true to a guy like me, Lila Archer."

"A guy like you?" she repeated, coy.

"You're a dream come true to anyone fortunate enough to be with you."

Lila lost the battle over her lips, her experience in acting be damned, and once again she was smiling that beaming smile that seemed to light the whole room. She signaled for the bill (Spencer's sundae has long since melted) and once the meal was paid for, she grabbed Spencer's hand and led him out the door.

They walked in silence as they navigated through the busy streets. Spencer, baffled as to what he had said to make Lila behave in such a mysterious way, could only follow the woman's lead as she chose the direction of their walk. Soon enough, they were ducking into a building Spencer wasn't familiar with.

"I was planning to visit this gallery this morning," explained Lila as she grabbed a pamphlet from the wall and gave it to Spencer, "but of course I bumped into you and I got waylaid. It's a new place, so not a lot of people know about it just yet."

Spencer studied Lila as she scanned the small art gallery, looking for a specific piece of artwork.

"You like it when there isn't a lot of people," he said, careful as to not offend her by his statement. "I take that it stems from the lack of anonymity you get from being in the public eye for so long."

"That's a brilliant observation, Spencer. You must be an expert on human psychology or something!" laughed Lila.

"Or something," Spencer agreed.

There was no rhyme or reason to the way Lila led Spencer around the gallery, but the two of them took their time examining each piece displayed, with Lila easily sharing what each piece meant to her and patiently goading Spencer to voice his own thoughts.

They were standing by a sculpture that looked like an homage to fertility figures (Spencer was wondering what type of clay was used to acquire the sculpture's particular texture), when Lila leaned her head on his shoulder and started to speak in such a low whisper that Spencer had to strain his ears to listen.

"After all that media hype about me being a stalker victim died down," she said, "I was still struggling to process what had happened. I was feeling a lot of emotions – anger, mostly, but there was plenty of guilt and shame, too. It started to affect my work, so my manager arranged for me to see a therapist three times a week.

"Dr Keller was really helpful in letting me come to terms with everything, and she even humored me when I came in on our first session together and I immediately asked what transference was. She helped me accept that my best friend was my stalker, that I was a victim, and that the whole situation was not my fault. And I worked through it all with her. Now, I only see her once a month and only to make sure I'm handling the stress from being a celebrity as well as I could be."

Lila lifted her head and locked her eyes with Spencer's. "What I'm trying to say here, Spencer, is that I'm glad you didn't call me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I get that my attachment to you would not have helped me in the long run. I know that I would have relied on you like a crutch, and I truly understand how that is just not healthy. But I'm better now. I'm still hurting, but I'm healed. And I think, if you feel the same way I do about… about us, then maybe we can make something out of whatever it was that we have right now."

Lila reached up to touch the side of Spencer's face. Her fingers, clammy and cold, were somehow not a shock to his overheated face. His heart was thudding that staccato beat once more.

"Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me I wasn't the only one who felt something last time?"

Spencer closed his eyes. He could pinpoint the exact places of where Lila's fingertips met the skin of his cheek.

"The transference process involves the projection of a mental representation of previous experience on to the present, whereby the transferee is treated as though they are playing the complementary role needed for the projected relationship and –"

"Spencer," Lila gently coaxed. "I know what transference is, and this isn't it."

Spencer gulped and, daring himself to, he opened his eyes. "Really?" he asked for the second time.

"Yes, really," she chuckled. "I am honest to God attracted to you, Spencer Reid, and I would really, _really_ like to date you."

"Are you – are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I feel pretty good about this," she said, and then she pressed a kiss to his lips which was, if Spencer was being honest to himself, something he was expecting to happen. Nonetheless, it still caught him by surprise.

"Say you'll think about it." Lila whispered the words against his lips. "Promise me you will."

"I promise," he said, before leaning in for another kiss.

~break~

The following morning, Spencer woke up fervently hoping that all that time spent yesterday with Lila was not some kind of dream his overactive brain had imagined. He quickly dressed for the day, knowing that he and Elle had an early start if they wanted to keep to their schedule. They had other colleges to visit and more recruitment drives to do.

As he was putting on his mismatched socks, a knock sounded on his door. He bounded over to it and, pulling it open, there stood Elle with two paper cups of coffee. Today was her turn to get the nectar of the gods.

"You got in pretty late last night," she said without preamble, and Spencer noted that her expression was battling between expectant and teasing. "Did you encounter some more foot traffic?"

So yesterday wasn't a dream after all. Spencer felt the blush creep up his face. If it were any other situation, Spencer would have deflected and changed the topic of conversation. However, Elle was holding his coffee hostage – he had to tell her the truth. Or, at least, the truth that she expected to hear.

"Lila and I spent the entire day catching up," he said slowly. "I gave her the tour around Caltech, and we had dinner in a restaurant. After that, we spent some time in an art gallery."

"Catching up, right…" Elle pushed leaned against the door frame and studied Spencer from head to toe. "Look, I'm all for pursuing what makes you happy, Spencer. Relax, okay?"

She handed him his coffee and wary, he took an absentminded sip of the scolding hot beverage. There wasn't enough sugar in it, but that's to be expected when someone else makes his coffee.

"Are you going tell the team?" he asked. "About Lila, I mean."

Elle tilted her head to the side. "Do you want me to?"

"There's nothing in my job description that says I need to share explicit details of my personal life – or any at all, in fact – with the rest of the team, as long as it does not negatively affect my ability to work."

"I am aware of that, Reid. Your job description is my job description, too."

"However…" Spencer prompted, knowing that there was more that Elle wanted to say.

"_However_, given Lila's history with the BAU –"

"That's a non-issue," he interrupted. "She's worked through the trauma, and that's all I'm saying in the matter." Then he paused, feeling like he had been too harsh. "I do appreciate your advice, Elle, so thank you. I'm going to need some more time to get my things together. I'll meet you downstairs in the lobby, okay?"

"Okay."

Spencer moved to close the door behind her, but just as he bridged the gap Elle said, "I really am happy for you, you know."

Spencer smiled a true smile. "I do know. Thank you."


End file.
